


The Lost Supports

by GlitterGluwu



Series: Assorted Minifics [6]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Breeding, Catboys & Catgirls, Cunnilingus, Deepthroating, Denial, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Constipation, Face-Fucking, Female Alpha, Ficlet Collection, Foot Jobs, Foot Massage, Hybrids, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Injury Recovery, Knotting, M/M, Making Out, Male Omega, Panic Attacks, Post-Battle, Selfcest, Slut Shaming, Step-Sibling Incest, Teacher-Student Relationship, Teasing, Threesome - F/M/M, Trans Caspar von Bergliez, Trans Male Character, Tsundere Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Weddings, alcohol mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:41:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 10,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22500394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterGluwu/pseuds/GlitterGluwu
Summary: A collection of disconnected minifics pertaining to Fire Emblem: Three Houses.Chapter 1: Sylvain/Felix, rated E, traumaChapter 2: Caspar/Linhardt, rated T, A/B/OChapter 3: Hubert/Ferdinand, rated M, Teacher/studentChapter 4: Dimitri/Sylvain, rated E, Brojobs™Chapter 5: Dorothea/Caspar, rated E, footjobsChapter 6: Annette/Felix, rated T, wedding nightChapter 7: Hubert/Ferdinand/Edelgard, rated E, serviceChapter 8: Dimitri/Sylvain & Caspar/Linhardt, rated T, Hybrids - dogs vs. cats & pettingChapter 9: Annette/Felix & Caspar/Linhardt, rated T, Hybrids - purringChapter 10: Dimitri/Sylvain, rated E, teasing/slut shamingChapter 11: Hilda/Caspar, rated M, public teasing, trans CasparChapter 12: Dimitri/Edelgard, rated E, dogboy/knottingChapter 13: Annette/Felix, rated E, A/B/O, female alpha/breedingChapter 14: Dimitri/Edelgard, rated M, age gapChapter 15: Hilda/Caspar/Hilda, rated M, teasing/selfcest
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Caspar von Bergliez/Hilda Valentine Goneril, Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Edelgard von Hresvelg, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Dorothea Arnault/Caspar von Bergliez, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Ferdinand von Aegir/Edelgard von Hresvelg/Hubert von Vestra, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Series: Assorted Minifics [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618864
Comments: 20
Kudos: 329





	1. Sylvix

**Author's Note:**

> Guess! What! I! Got! Sucked! Into!!!
> 
> Well. Those who are familiar with me and my work will know the drill by now - this is a series of disconnected stories, not necessarily in the same universes, that I write for my Twitter and compile here. There will be sexy stuff, there will be cute stuff, and there will be problematic stuff, so if one chapter in particular is not your speed, you are welcome to skip to the next.
> 
> This first one is Sylvix because of course it is - a pal and I haven't been able to stop talking about Sylvain having an Unpleasant Sexual Past with his brother and I just got to thinking about how Felix would handle that later on.

There were few things Sylvain seemed to take quite so seriously as taking  _ nothing _ seriously. He was an expert in the art of hiding the pain behind a smirk or a grin - that is, until he broke under the pressure.

Felix only heard the faintest hitch in Sylvain’s breath as he leaned down over him, bracing his arms on either of his shoulders as he forced his hips brutally downward and bowed his head, watching the bouncing head of his cock trailing precum on its way. He was close - close enough that he only grit his teeth when he felt Sylvain stiffening underneath him, supposing for the moment that he was approaching orgasm too.

It only made it all the more surprising when he heard Sylvain stammer, “Stuh - stop.” He was far enough in and so caught off-guard that he didn’t stop right away - certainly not fast enough to prevent Sylvain from grasping one of his wrists and forcing the heel of his palm up toward his chest, not so much flinging him as… forcing his displacement.

“Are you  _ kidding?!” _ Felix snapped, and immediately regretted it. Sylvain had rolled onto his side facing away from him and was breathing rapidly in and out, covering his mouth with both hands. Felix stayed still for a moment, kneeling on their shared bedding, and felt a muscle jump in his jaw. Sylvain’s broad backside suddenly felt like a brick wall.

Dammit. He wasn’t  _ good  _ at this.

He slipped closer, considering whether to provide Sylvain with a comforting touch and alternately contemplating what the trigger had been. Had his bracing himself on his shoulders felt like a restraint? Or was it simply that he’d been  _ above _ him?

He settled for sitting with the side of his thigh just touching the arc of Sylvain’s spine and waiting. As if some spell had been broken, Sylvain uncovered his mouth and turned his head, gazing up at him with a flat expression. His long eyelashes were darkened and clumped with tears, but he’d composed himself surprisingly quickly.

Sylvain reached up and pressed the pad of his thumb between Felix’s eyebrows. “Quit pouting like that,” he said in a rough voice, pitched upward in an attempt at playfulness. “You’re gonna wrinkle that pretty face of yours.”

Stupid. Stupid, stupid idiot, trying to comfort  _ him _ as if it mattered. Felix’s eyes lingered on a circle of old, old white scars just at Sylvain’s collarbone, blurred at the edges with time.

“So stupid,” he rasped. Sylvain smiled, found his hand, and guided it to his lips. Felix could feel the curve of his smile against the skin of his palm.


	2. Casphardt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A friend and I like to joke about Linhardt having a big dick that he never puts to good use with Caspar, so I was like, hey, what's better than a big dick that never gets put to good use? A big KNOT that never gets put to good use!! Hell yeah!!!
> 
> I'm a Black Eagles fangirl and these two were definitely my first candidate for OTP. I still love them :)

“Very kind of you to join us at last, Caspar,” Dorothea chirruped in her cloying, teasing sort of way, leaning in towards Ferdinand with a catlike smile on her face. “I say, it feels like we’ve had every omega in for tea with us at some point  _ except _ for our own dear classmate.”

“Including Felix,” Ferdinand reminisced, frowning distastefully down into his teacup. “Although I daresay the attention he drew from a certain someone did put a damper on that particular afternoon.”

“Ahh, but I’m sure  _ your _ mate would be far less unpleasant were he to show,” Dorothea said kindly. The smile on her face didn’t reach her eyes, and Caspar swallowed.

It wasn’t that he didn’t  _ like _ his fellow omegas. He just didn’t much care for this frou-frou nonsense. He’d never been one much to do something purely “for solidarity’s sake”, or whatever reasoning Dorothea and Ferdinand had come up with for having omegas-only tea every free day.

That, and ever since his run-in with Dorothea when she had purred all about how he was like a little brother to her, he’d had the feeling that this would shape up more like some kind of interrogation than a genuine conversation.

Instead of putting a voice to any of those thoughts, he twiddled his thumbs, looked up at the underside of the parasol shading their table, and muttered, “I dunno, Linhardt can be plenty unpleasant if you ask me.”

Dorothea and Ferdinand shared a look, and Caspar groaned internally. Apparently they’d gotten a taste of exactly what they’d invited him here for, and now he was in the thick of it.

“How do you mean, Caspar?” Ferdinand asked, seeming to force an air of levity into his voice as he swirled his tea in his cup. “You two seem like such an ideal couple, it’s odd to think there might be trouble in paradise.”

Blatant lies.  _ Blatant _ lies. Linhardt and himself seemed like a trainwreck from the outside looking in - their fathers had both had plenty to say about their son’s betrothed, things that they would snicker about whenever they got the chance. Linhardt was completely lacking in the authority an alpha should have and Caspar’s father interpreted his affinity for white magic as softness; in turn, Caspar was loud and crass and completely unwilling to take direction from his mate as an omega should.

Caspar shrugged. “‘S lazy,” he grunted, and slurped his tea.

Ferdinand looked a touch put out, but Dorothea didn’t let up for even a moment. “How’s the sex?” she prodded, and Caspar choked. “Hard to imagine him being dominant even then.”

“HA,” Caspar replied. He couldn’t help it. “Goddess, he’s useless.”

Ferdinand seemed ecstatic. “Really?!”

“I top. I seriously can’t get him off his butt long enough to knot me, even when I’m in heat.”

Dorothea raised her eyebrows, her gaze frozen somewhere over Caspar’s left shoulder.

“Even when I beg, it’s  _ oh but Caspar you like topping don’t you _ this and  _ I pulled a late night Caspar have some pity _ that and, like, whatever, you know? But  _ sometimes _ I would really, really love it if he’d put that dumb knot to use. I think the last time he did…” He thought it through for a moment, then finished, “It had to have been before we came to Garreg Mach.”

Ferdinand spat out his tea.

He was getting fired up and loud, but it seemed to be doing the trick; Ferdinand and Dorothea both seemed extremely impressed with the amount of gossip they’d managed to drudge up. Dorothea, at length, drew her gaze back to Caspar’s face and smiled. “I mean, I suppose it’s nice having a partner that’s willing to challenge the status quo that way. Goddess knows most alphas wouldn’t.” Ferdinand nodded in agreement while struggling to clean tea off of his uniform.

“Well -” Caspar mulled it over, then sighed and nodded. “Eh, we both have our quirks. And we grew up together, you know, so he gets me. Yeah, I’d rather have him than some other knothead.”

“Thank goodness,” drawled a silken voice behind him. Caspar stiffened as Linhardt draped himself over the arm of his chair, then whirled around to look him in the eye. “And here I was beginning to think I was some good-for-nothing who didn’t deserve you.”

“Linhardt…” Caspar struggled. He could hear Dorothea and Ferdinand trying and failing to contain their mirth across the table.

Linhardt smiled around a faint little laugh and leaned in, nuzzling his hair. “Caspar, for both our sakes,  _ please _ shut your mouth.”


	3. Ferdibert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only Ferdiberts I've written so far have been just them, but them plus Edelgard is my current reigning OT3..... I must correct this as soon as I am able!!!
> 
> Regardless, I wanted to play with Ferdie and his Various Complexes so I put these two in an AU where Hubert is Ferdinand's teacher.

It was rare that Ferdinand’s eyes should open before he’d even properly realized he was awake. He blinked slowly in his bleary, oddly peaceful state, frowning when his eyes refused to focus. He shifted and grunted, feeling foggy in every quarter and willing away the fuzziness in his vision without much luck.

“Patience, Ferdinand,” chided a deep voice, seeming to come from a concentration of darkness lingering somewhere off to the side. “Sources tell me you had yourself quite a tumble.”

A few pieces happened to collide in Ferdinand’s mind, not so much falling into place as fitting together however they were able. He was in bed. That voice belonged to his teacher, Hubert von Vestra. He was considerably less clothed than he was accustomed to.

“Professor!” Ferdinand screeched, grabbing for blankets he couldn’t see and curling his body to hide his shame and realizing, much, much too suddenly that he was in a world of pain and that moving so quickly had been a terrible idea. He bowled over and very nearly toppled off the bed, saved only by the very man he’d been trying to hide himself from. The world dipped and swayed as Hubert secured him back in his bed, grunting with the effort.

“You seem to have forgotten just how many times I’ve seen you spread bare, Ferdinand,” Hubert clicked his tongue, settling back down. Ferdinand could see him a little better now, wearing his glasses and cupping a little book in his gloved hands. He blinked past the pain as Hubert continued, “I don’t know if it’s a pity or a blessing. Tell me, will I be so fortunate as to feel you squirming virginally against me once again?”

“No,” Ferdinand scoffed. He groaned with pain as he shifted into a better position. “What…”

“As I said, you reportedly took a tumble off your horse,” Hubert explained, sounding rather bored. “You hit your head and you’ve been asleep for two days.”

“Two - Two  _ days?!” _

“Manuela should be back in the morning,” Hubert explained, then yawned. “Goddess knows I haven’t the patience to put you through whatever tests she thought she could pawn off on me upon your awakening.”

“Have you been here the entire time?”

Hubert flipped a page in his book. Ferdinand craned his neck to see the title and smarted - no, that was much too uncomfortable. Finally, Hubert muttered, “Anytime I’ve been able, yes.”

“Why?”

Hubert sighed and deadpanned, “It would hardly be fitting for my wife-to-be to pass on without me by his side.”

Ferdinand wrinkled his nose. This old joke again, eh. He turned away - as best he could, that is to say - and grumbled, “Fine, then. Don’t tell me.”

“Is it really so hard to believe, Ferdinand, that I’ve developed a genuine measure of affection toward you?”

Ferdinand felt his face grow warm. And how many times, exactly, had he had to remind himself not to take these teasing statements to heart? All the trysts in Hubert’s office, the covert meetings outside the monastery, and every last one of them he’d had to remind himself that his professor was hardly courting material for a high-profile noble like himself.

He heard Hubert’s book close, and suddenly there was a brush of soft leather across his cheek. He turned his head again and blinked up into Hubert’s astonishingly gentle gaze.

“I’m not a very patient man, young noble,” Hubert murmured. “I think it may benefit you to ask yourself who is refusing to be serious with whom.”

Ferdinand swallowed. He continued staring at the ceiling as he heard the click of Hubert’s boots on the way out of the infirmary, and he counted his breaths to distract himself from the raw emotion budding inside him.


	4. Dimivain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen.... I just think the concept of brojobs are so funny and Sylvain would ABSOLUTELY fool himself into believing he only does it to entertain ladies. It's the truth and you can't convince me otherwise

Dimitri didn’t like to assume, but this experience felt nothing like it was being given by a man only interested in impressing women.

The fact alone that Sylvain had suggested it - in a similar, playfully casual tone to that which he’d used to woo so many women right before Dimitri’s eyes - belied his insistence that this was all for Dimitri’s benefit. He  _ had _ been feeling a little overwhelmed lately, apparently doing a poorer job of concealing his struggle with the darkness within than he assumed, and when Sylvain had cocked an eyebrow and suggested a stress reliever, Dimitri had foolishly agreed.

“Little skill I picked up to impress the ladies,” Sylvain had explained, dropping a wink. “Turns out, they like a man who’s willing to perform a little.”

But this - no part of this felt like a performance.

There was no missing the groan Sylvain gave or the enthusiastic slurping sounds that came out when he pulled up, jerking steadily at the base of Dimitri’s cock. His eyebrows were tented in unmitigated delight, his eyelashes fluttering closed in a far cry from the wide-eyed, hungry look he’d given Dimitri when he’d first revealed it.

And Dimitri may not have been any man’s definition of  _ experienced, _ but Sylvain seemed just a hair too skilled to have only done it, as he’d claimed, “once or twice”.

Lovely brown eyes emerged from under those dark, dark lashes, peering up at Dimitri with an expression that couldn’t have been anything but heated, and he held his hand firm at Dimitri’s base and pulled away, his mouth curling into a secretive, sensual smile. A thick strand of saliva and precum branched between Sylvain’s glistening lower lip and the head of Dimitri’s cock before Sylvain gracelessly wiped his mouth.

“You look stiff as a board, your highness,” he teased, fisting his length with a persistent, pressing firmness that felt  _ oh so right. _ “C’mon, loosen up a bit. Wouldn’t kill you.”

Dimitri swallowed and glanced down at where he was white-knuckling the foot of his bed. “I - I don’t want to hurt you,” he admitted, feeling foolish.

Sylvain didn’t answer for a second, just using the slickness of his own spittle to pump away at Dimitri’s erection, his lips hanging a quarter of the way open and his eyes glued to the head where his foreskin rode up and pulled back with the movement of his hand. Dimitri thought he’d dropped the subject when he dipped in to slurp at his slit, his eyes rolling back as if he was the one being pleasured, but he then said, “Better to test it out on me than on a girl, Dimitri. As long as you’ve got me here.”

Of all the blatant lies Sylvain had told him throughout this process, that statement rung with the most clarity. Dimitri gasped as Sylvain dipped down to suck his upper half, then shakily pried his fingers from the wood he’d braced them on and forced his hands forward, gingerly grasping Sylvain’s head in either palm.

Sylvain gave him an approving look and carried on, sucking and slurping and licking with such finesse that Dimitri, as virginal as he was, struggled to hold back. His fingers clenched without him meaning to and he held on to a startled-looking Sylvain for dear life as he bucked forward, groaning deep in his throat, sounding animalian even to his own ears. He did it again, and again, and after the initial shock Sylvain seemed to allow it, letting Dimitri fuck his throat and just moaning ever louder all the while.

Dimitri didn’t have the breath for a warning - he buried himself as deep as he dared and came, releasing a deep, guttural sound and feeling Sylvain’s harsh, labored breaths through his nose. He sighed, shaky, and felt Sylvain’s throat clench around him, and then again. Suddenly afraid that he might retch, Dimitri quickly pulled him off, looking down with mounting panic in his chest.

Sylvain fell backward onto the quivering support of his arm, holding his opposing hand to his mouth in a move that briefly confirmed Dimitri’s worst fear. But he just wiped his mouth, biting his lower lip and closing his eyes for a second as he caught his breath, and at a glance downward, Dimitri realized he wasn’t the only one who had reached orgasm.

Sylvain had ejaculated completely untouched.

A loose laugh formed on Sylvain’s lips and his head fell back. He fixed Dimitri with an obviously lustful gaze and said, “Alright, maybe keep your hands to yourself. My head hurts almost as much as my jaw.”

“Your jaw?” Dimitri asked, breathless, and immediately felt a little stupid for asking. Sylvain laughed again, not unkindly.

“Your highness, I don’t need to tell you you’re big.” He stood, still shaking a little, and stretched, placing his hands behind his head. “Better, huh? Told you it’d help.”

Dimitri was a little lost for a moment. Right, Sylvain had done this as a means of helping him - at least, that had been his claim. Haltingly, Dimitri nodded and said, “Yes… Thank you, Sylvain.”

“Anytime, your highness,” Sylvain chuckled. “Honestly, I’m almost jealous of your future wife. You’re a lot of fun to unravel like that.”

Dimitri blinked as Sylvain said his goodbyes and left. Good goddess, he  _ really _ didn’t know, did he?


	5. DoroCas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what this ship name is or what to tag the dynamic they adopt here but long story short there's footjobs and that thing where Dorothea teases Caspar for being her little brother figure. I've been going NUTS about these two in a fwb relationship since I unlocked their B support and I AM SO UPSET THAT THEY'RE A RAREPAIR WHAT THE HECK
> 
> Okay, okay, dialing it back. Hi. I hope you like this lmao

It began with an exhausted Dorothea, not at all out of line with her typical treatment of Caspar, breezing into one of the cozier common spaces inside the monastery’s bleak walls, kicking off her heels and collapsing onto the loveseat Caspar was hard at work studying in. He grunted out a greeting, his head buried in a book (for once), and after a moment of consideration, Dorothea propped her feet up in his lap.

“Caspar, be a dear and massage my poor feet, won’t you?” she yawned. Tonight’s date had not been one for a quiet dinner where they just sat and got to know each other, and this on the tails of what felt like battle after battle was a little much for her.

Caspar blinked as if coming out of a trance, then glanced down at her feet in his lap and frowned. He met her eye as he said, “Dorothea, whatever’s going on, I really don’t have time for this right now. I  _ have _ to pass this make-up exam.”

Dorothea raised her eyebrows. “My goodness. And when is it?”

“This weekend.”

“So you’re studying ahead of time? You’re making improvements!” she cheered, and at his scowl, she added, “I’m not trying to be  _ condescending, _ Caspar. The fact that you’re putting in the effort is impressive.”

“Thanks,” he said curtly, then sighed. “I don’t think I’m getting it, though… The longer I sit here, the more the words just -” he finished with an abstract flying-off gesture, and Dorothea nodded.

“Well, I’m hardly of a mind to help you now,” she offered, glancing down at the pages, “but if you wanted to take a break and rest, I’d be glad to show you what I know tomorrow.”

His eyes brightened. “You really mean that?! Thank you, Dor-”

“In exchange for a foot massage now,” she added playfully, crossing one ankle over the other and wiggling her toes.

“I get that you’re teasing me, but really, I’d do anything,” Caspar gushed, setting aside his book and clasping the closer of her feet in his hands; she was surprised he agreed so quickly, but she let him get to it. She watched his forearms flex as he pressed his thumb into the arch of her foot and smoothed it upwards. “Maybe besides asking Hubert. I feel like he’d ask for a bigger favor than just a foot massage.”

Dorothea laughed breathily, then swallowed down half of a moan. “He - might,” she grunted, then inhaled. “Oh, Caspar, you’re good at this.”

“Am I?” he murmured, sounding distracted. She moaned again as he massaged each of her toes, shifting in her seat as she melted with the force of his pushes and pulls, and glanced at his face. He was red as a tomato.

She recognized that look. She fought down a grin, glanced at his groin, and giggled a little. “Very nice, Caspar,” she commented, and he seemed confused until she uncrossed her ankles and teasingly pressed her toes to his erection.

He drew in a shuddering gasp, then rushed to cover himself. “I - sorry,” he muttered.

“Don’t be! You know what they say about all work and no play,” she replied brightly. “And you’re still so young, Caspar. You should really be taking care of your body.”

He gave her a dubious look, but he did uncover the tent in his pants. He looked for a moment as if he was weighing whether or not to return to the massage, but Dorothea answered for him by smoothing the ball of her foot from his base to his tip. His hips stuttered forward and his eyes went wide before he tilted his head back and keened.

“Stay nice and quiet for me, little guy,” Dorothea reminded him, getting her second foot involved, stabilizing with one and stroking with the other, parting her toes around him, fighting down her giggles at him clapping his hands over his mouth. “Good boy.”

He whined high in his throat, his cheeks dark with blush. “S-stop -” he gasped, paused, and continued, “‘M not little -”

“Baby bro,” Dorothea pressed on, cupping her feet so that he could fuck upward through their joined arches, “Sweet baby boy.”

“Quit teasing -”

“You know the magic words,” she crooned. His glare came from glistening eyes, but he uncovered his mouth to beg her.

“Big - unh - B-BIG SIS,” he cried, bucking desperately forward.

All at once, Dorothea pulled her feet back. He groaned and she shushed him as she got to her knees and straddled his lap, cradling his jaw in soft hands. He was practically face-to-face with her cleavage and she giggled at the visible bobbing of his Adam’s apple.

“Good boy,” she praised him, and she ground downward.


	6. FelAnnie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FelAnnie caught me COMPLETELY by surprise.... Long before I even started my BL playthrough, my friend sent me a video of their supports and was like WATCH THEM THEY'RE THE CUTEST POSSIBLE THING and I was like Eh but now??? Oh my god. They're married.
> 
> So I made them get married. Forgive my poor lyrics, I'm no Annette Fantine Dominic, that's for sure :,)

Annette lay in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin, feeling her giddiness from earlier bubbling right back up out of her now that she and Felix were alone. He was in their ensuite, washing his face as per her reminder, and though she was exhausted, she couldn’t help but fidget.

Their wedding had been wonderful, surrounded by family and friends on all sides. Felix had groaned about having a large one, but if the way he’d hung all over her and smiled softly at the reception had been any indication, he hadn’t minded in the end. She smiled to herself and shifted beneath the sheets - he wouldn’t want to consummate now, would he? A girl could only hope.

He stepped into the room, pausing on the threshold to blink tiredly at her. His face was still flushed with drink and Annette had to suppress a snort - she’d been able to drink him under the table for the entirety of their adult lives; it was one of her many surprises. The tradeoff, however, was that he looked just about ready to pass out right then and there.

Quietly accepting that sex was not in the cards tonight, Annette happily opened her arms and Felix approached, making a soft sound in his throat like a cat as he curled up on top of her and all but ignored the covers. He laid his head on her chest and exhaled, letting it come out as a contented mixture of sigh, moan, and groan.

His face was still a little damp and Annette had to giggle at that. Felix opened one eye, the other pressed closed against her chest, and mumble-grumbled in his special Felix way. “Sing me to sleep.”

She touched him, smoothing some of the wetness on his cheek away with her thumb, and asked, “Which one?”

He closed his eye again as if in thought. “Surprise me.”

“Well, there’s a newer one I’ve been thinking through,” she mused, and he nodded, not bothering to lift his head. Annette smiled, took a deep breath, and began. “My husband is cool, my husband is kind -”

Felix opened his errant eye again and smiled up at her.

“Even when it’s mean, he always speaks his mind -”

He propped himself up on his elbows to watch her and she cupped both his cheeks in her hands, swaying gently to the bouncy beat of the song.

“He’s pokey and sharp, and he poked through my heart - Oh, Annie, you’re in a bind!”

“I’m pokey, am I?” he chuckled, taking care to prove her point by jabbing her right in the side where she tickled most. She kicked her leg involuntarily in conjunction with her snort.

“FELIX!” she squeaked, and he kept laughing, laying himself back over her like a blanket and smiling against the side of her neck. Annette clenched her teeth - if he just hadn’t been so  _ cute, _ he would’ve paid dearly for his crimes. As things were, she settled on a pout and a question: “So? Did you like it?”

He took a moment to answer, and she wondered for a split second whether he’d fallen asleep on her. Then, finally, he murmured, “It was the best song I’ve ever heard.”


	7. EdelFerdiBert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard is my wife!!! She's my WIFE!!!! THIS THREESOME IS MY FOOD!!!!! I AM SO VERY HUNGRY
> 
> I realized last night that I still hadn't made an attempt at writing Edelgard, because, well..... I was nervous, lmao. I hope I did her justice :,) And I LOVE her with these two cuz like. Support her. Cherish her. I know you can.

It was very nearly amusing, just how much smaller his lady appeared without the armor or the axe. Hubert brushed her hair to the side, humming his delight at how his fingers glided - and glided - and glided through it. He’d been styling and caring for her hair for years, but he never grew tired of the sheer delight it was just to touch it.

Sweat glistened on her neck, glinting off the rosy flush on her chest, snaking down between her breasts. She was all white and red, everywhere he looked - colors of late winter, interrupted only by a bright summery head nestled between her snowy thighs. Hubert dipped downward to lap some of her salty sweat off of her neck at the same time as Ferdinand drew his tongue torturously slowly up her slit; she jerked in his hold, thrashing against him with a strangled sound.

He could feel how lithe and petite she was when he reached around to massage her breast. Her head tilted back as he did, using what little leverage she had to grind forward against Ferdinand’s waiting mouth. Hubert heard her swallow before gasping, “Ferd - Ferdinand - stop -”

He did, almost comical in his abruptness, his tongue mid-lick and his eyes wide as saucers. “Your Majesty?” he said in a small voice, like a hound unsure what, exactly, it had done wrong.

She had not, in reality, asked  _ him _ to stop, so Hubert carried on, meeting Ferdinand’s eye over Edelgard’s shoulder as she shook her head at the epithet, still struggling to catch her breath. Hubert nosed down the sharp angle of her jaw, rolling her nipple between his fingertips until she stopped him with her hand and a softly disapproving look.

“I hardly think this is fair,” she said at last, having regained her delicately articulated tone much too quickly for Hubert’s liking. “You both promised I would be allowed to service  _ you _ this time.”

Ferdinand had the decency to look guilty; Hubert felt no such compulsion. “You do us a service by accepting ours, milady,” he purred, speaking so closely to her ear that he felt his lips brushing it as he did. He finished with a kiss to her cheek, faintly amused by her audible disappointment.

“I, for one, am happy to serve in this regard, Your Ma - Edelgard!” Ferdinand piped up, glancing between her face and her sex, visibly eager to return to his meal. “We can always strengthen our resolve for next time.”

Edelgard chuckled low in her throat, then let it bubble into a giggle at Ferdinand’s noise of protest when she began disentangling herself. “Ferdinand,” she murmured, her voice brimming with mirth and affection as she cradled his cheeks in either palm, “You say that every time.”

Hubert watched a shadow of a pout cross Ferdinand’s face before Edelgard leaned down and kissed it away. He covered his mouth, reluctant as ever to show his arousal even in the presence of his longtime lovers.

Edelgard was clearly determined this time, however, because she broke the kiss, leaning the side of her forehead against Ferdinand’s as she cast a teasing glance over her shoulder. “I know you act best as part of a team, Ferdinand,” she suggested, peering up into Hubert’s eyes, “but perhaps I could convince you to alter your objective?”

Ferdinand, as always, took a moment to catch on to her meaning - but when the both of them looked brightly at him with that determination in their eyes, Hubert was hardly at liberty to decline.


	8. DimiVain & CaspHardt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only realized after writing the one following this that this and the next one could very easily be paired together or in the same universe.... I've just been in a catboys/hybrids mood!!!! And Casphardt are a fun duo to square off against other ships!!!
> 
> I've also slowly been consumed by my love for Dimivain. They're real good, folks.

There really weren’t many prominent families with canine hybrids in the Empire - all told, Linhardt had had a fair bit of culture shock arriving at Garreg Mach. Caspar had observed him whenever the small cluster of Northern dogs passed by, stiffening and careful to keep his more feline tendencies under lock and key. It made him wonder whether he’d have bothered befriending Dorothea or Hubert in those first couple weeks if he hadn’t been wary of the pack mentality between their classmates in the Blue Lions.

Still, though, after those first few weeks, he seemed to relax a little. Caspar doubted he’d ever be  _ eager _ to interact with them, but he’d witnessed a few stiff nods from one to the other and was even relaxed enough that very day to take a nap on Caspar’s lap in the courtyard while the prince and his red-haired friend chatted nearby.

Caspar was growing fidgety by the time he saw the first distracted glance. The prince looked away from his friend, focused on Linhardt’s sleeping form, on the way he nuzzled forward into Caspar’s stomach. His friend seemed to notice and caught his attention, though, and Caspar reluctantly relaxed.

Then he was staring again, his tail beginning to bristle just a bit, and Caspar frowned. This guy was beginning to get on his nerves, but Linhardt would probably have some pretty sharp words for him if he picked a fight with  _ the _ prince of Faerghus. That’d be over the line, even for him, so Caspar forced a deep breath and unintentionally disturbed Linhardt, who rolled over, gave him a sleepy, irritated look, and performed a long, luxurious stretch, from his padded fingertips to the tip of his long, slender tail.

And then he snapped to attention when a deep, threatening bark rang through the courtyard. He was on his feet in seconds, running off somewhere behind Caspar as he struggled to get to his own feet. He managed it just in time to catch the prince’s shoulders as he lunged for them, feeling as if his bones shuddered with the impact.

“Hey!” he shouted, shoving with all his strength and finding, to his immediate dismay, that the prince didn’t budge an inch. “He doesn’t like loud noises, asshole!”

The prince had straightened and was directing an animalistic snarl over Caspar’s head; he panicked for a second, knowing his next target would be Linhardt if he wasn’t careful, and was about to try for the mother of all distractions when a broad, pale hand materialized under the prince’s ear and started scratching.

His demeanor changed immediately. There was a moment of hesitation, of licking his lips, his dilated pupils vanishing under his eyelids as he fought to concentrate, and finally of yielding to the redhead’s vigorous petting. He fell to his knees and the redhead went with him, grinning, getting his other hand under his armpit and scratching there, laughing when the prince started kicking involuntarily.

Caspar took the opportunity to look over his shoulder - shockingly, Linhardt hadn’t gone far and was stepping gingerly back, the sleek, short fur on his tail and haunches gradually un-spiking itself. Caspar had always liked teasing him when he went all bottle-brush tail, but only when it was his own damn fault.

“Syl-Sylvain,” groaned the prince, on the ground now with his tail thumping excitedly against the grass, “This is dreadfully embarrassing.”

“Don’t wanna get embarrassed? Don’t act like a pup in front of the goddess and everyone,” ‘Sylvain’ quipped right back. He finished his petting with one last, firm pat to the prince’s belly and an apologetic smile toward Caspar. “Sorry about him. Not a lot of cat hybrids in the frozen North.”

“Funny, I’d guessed,” Linhardt muttered, leaning around Caspar. Caspar huffed.

“You’d think he’d have a  _ little _ restraint,” he scoffed, and Linhardt barked in derisive laughter. Caspar rounded on him, feeling his cheeks color in embarrassment as he objected. “Hey!”

“Picture of restraint that  _ you _ are,” Linhardt snickered, and Caspar wrinkled his nose. Driven by the scene they’d just witnessed, he reached for Linhardt’s chin and started petting.

“Ooh…” Ears folded back, purr bubbled out of his throat. Behind Caspar, Sylvain issued a warning and suddenly, the prince slammed into Caspar on his way to Linhardt once again.


	9. FelAnnie & CaspHardt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second of my Catboy Indulgences, lmao. I wanted to write something for Felix's birthday and it's still the 20th here!!! And my Twitter poll ended with Annette winning against Dimitri and Sylvain, of all people... I've attracted a good bunch of followers, lmao.
> 
> And of course, because the last one was Caspar's POV, this one is Linhardt's. Seriously didn't mean for these to pair so well together, but I'm not complaining.

As a group, the Black Eagle class was pretty familiar with much of what constituted catperson behavior; this was naturally helped along by the fact that they had  _ three _ catpeople in their class at the beginning of the year and that they all naturally displayed different tendencies. The subject of purring, for example, was an interesting one to consider for Linhardt - he had never been one much for purring himself, although he was ostensibly the most  _ catlike _ of his compatriots.

Hubert, in contrast, purred quite a bit. It was seldom a particularly pleasant undertaking to observe, and it somehow only made him more frightening to their more weak-willed classmates, but that was because he seemed to do it most when feeling particularly sadistic. Dorothea had the rare talent of  _ controlling _ when she purred or not, which she explained as the result of her training as a performer; it would hardly do to ruin the tone of a scene with an untimely reaction of her own.

Cats were not exactly pack animals, which Linhardt assumed was why Felix had been so eager to swap in from the canine-dominated Blue Lions. Their acknowledgement of their new classmate had been hardly more than a brusque nod exchanged between the four of them before returning to their individual activities, which seemed to suit Felix just as well as it did the rest of them.

What was something more of a surprise was Annette’s joining, though Linhardt supposed the Black Eagles were a somewhat more favorable class for magic users. He largely shrugged it off when she materialized in their classroom one day, sitting in the seat in front of Felix and sharing a friendly conversation with Caspar; it was hardly his concern, he supposed, and set to grooming Caspar with his tongue while he carried on. It earned him a funny look from Annette, but Caspar had long since grown used to Linhardt’s innate desire to keep him clean and greeted him as warmly as ever.

The interaction that  _ would _ define that day in his memory only came when the professor called their class to order. Caspar and Linhardt, seeing as they were already there, settled in next to Annette and turned their - well, no, they didn’t exactly turn their attention anywhere. Caspar fidgeted as usual, mindlessly tearing a page out of his notebook and pulverizing it as quietly as he was able, and Linhardt let his mind wander as he waited for sleep’s loving embrace.

Annette took very thorough notes, it seemed. She had  _ two _ notebooks laid out in front of her, one that she was scrawling in with a very sloppy pattern to her handwriting, and one with considerably prettier handwriting that she would cross-reference if she seemed confused or just before raising her hand to ask a clarifying question. It made Linhardt’s eyes droop just to consider; of course she was the kind of person to  _ re-write _ their notes after class. What a bother.

It did draw his eye - or rather, his  _ ear - _ to a persistent, rolling sound coming from behind them. It was comforting enough that it very nearly enticed him to at last lay his head down and sleep, but then - then he realized that Hubert always sat at the front of the class, and it couldn’t possibly be him.

His head snapped around to find Felix staring intently at the back of Annette’s head, purring like his life depended on it. His expression was no different than usual but his hand was folding and unfolding itself on the tabletop.  _ Kneading. _

Now this was  _ much  _ too strange not to investigate. He glanced around, curious to see whether anybody else had noticed, and leaned back. “Are you  _ purring?” _ he asked under his breath.

Felix’s eyes finally landed on him and went wide as saucers. His ears swiveled back and his hand froze, but the purr was still there, quieter now. Linhardt tittered in disbelief, and Annette gave him a curious look.

“Felix always purrs during lecture! You haven’t noticed, Linhardt?” she provided.

Linhardt kept his eyes trained on Felix, who was still frozen and growing redder by the second. He raised his eyebrows without any intention at all of informing Annette that he had not heard Felix purr even once in the month since his recruitment, but Caspar… Well, Caspar had never been any good at reading a room.

“Well, I haven’t heard him do it before! It must be because of you, Annette,” he mused.

Annette blinked blankly for a moment. Then, seeming utterly unconcerned with the cost of interrupting class, she squealed, falling sideways out of her chair.

It was a good thing Felix had such fast reflexes, Linhardt supposed, chuckling at the stiff line of his tail as he lunged forward. Young love was truly infectious in its own way, and Caspar leaning around him to ascertain that Annette was alright was the perfect opportunity to nuzzle his dear, stupid friend.


	10. Dimivain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen!!!! I love them, is the thing, and Dimitri is such a dork!!!!!!! Sylvain MUST tease his vanilla boyfriend about his innocence at least once (and if it's backed by a hint of his own bitter personality that makes it all the better!!!)
> 
> I don't do requests often, but my friend helped me come up with a good Dimivain prompt when I wanted to write them but couldn't remember WHAT I'd wanted to write earlier so this goes out to them <33333

“Yes…  _ yes, _ oh, yes -”

Sylvain couldn’t help but think to himself that, above all else, Dimitri’s bedroom habits were  _ cute. _ He really couldn’t be called quiet by any metric, though he’d admittedly become more controlled over the course of the last couple months; he’d drawn his animalistic snarls and guttural sounds back into breathy, barely-articulated praises. He sounded almost like a woman, sometimes, even when he topped, and it was cute.

“Sylv- oh, suck it, suck my -”

In some ways, that was precisely the problem. Sylvain considered it, listening to the echo of a word hovering on the tip of Dimitri’s tongue, fighting to coax it out of him with a wet slurp and a hollowing of his cheeks. Dimitri had reined his wilder tendencies in too far,  _ much _ too far, to the point where even the unsexiest of sexy words were beyond him. He hated to admit it, because of course he loved him, but Sylvain was getting just a little, well -

“Augh - god - dess - I’m -”

_ Bored. _

Sylvain pulled off at the first spurt of Dimitri’s cum, letting that hot stickiness arc over the bridge of his nose and retreat down over his lips, then an additional burst landed over his eye as he quickly closed it. He opened his mouth again, catching his breath and cracking open his left eye to survey a pink, dazed Dimitri.

He always blushed with his whole chest. It was cute. Cute, cute, like all the girls he’d - no, he was  _ not _ going down that road.

He braced an elbow on Dimitri’s knee and tilted his head a little, offering up a small, flirty smile. “Hey, you made a bit of a mess,” he teased, indicating his right eye, “What do you plan on doing about it?”

Sylvain heard the hesitation in Dimitri’s voice. “I…? Oh, I did, didn’t I,” he finished with a light little laugh. “I do apologize, Sylvain. Did you want me to make it up to you? I could - uh, service -”

He finished by indicating Sylvain’s tented underwear instead of just saying  _ suck your dick _ like any reasonable person would, and Sylvain held his commentary back for the moment, instead searching around for a handkerchief to wipe his face with and saying, “No, Dimitri, I had something else in mind.”

“Did you?” Dimitri asked. Sylvain found what he was looking for and carefully wiped Dimitri’s cum out of the danger zone before attending to the rest of his face. “And what was that?”

Sylvain carefully considered his words as he nudged Dimitri’s knees closer together and leaned forward on them, resting his chin over his crossed arms. Dimitri was nervous - he couldn’t really tell  _ how _ he could tell, but he could tell. Finally, he tilted his head, peeked up at him, and said, “I think it’d be  _ really _ sexy if you’d call me a slut, babe.”

Dimitri’s eyebrows disappeared behind his bangs, and Sylvain might have laughed. Might have.

“Or a whore, or -”

“I - Understood!” Dimitri cut him off, pointedly turning his gaze toward the corner of the room with an odd, strained little smile. “Yes, I - there is no need for further demonstration.”

“You’re sure? ‘Cuz we could start small,” Sylvain proposed and slid upward, coming forward to kneel over Dimitri’s lap on the edge of the mattress. “You could tell me to suck your dick, if you wanted. Cock, if you’re feeling adventurous.”

“Sylvain… If you were that frustrated, you could’ve -”

“You could ask to fuck me,” Sylvain pressed on, feeling a rare little inkling of sadism rise alongside his traditional affection for teasing. “Or to suck my tits, you know, get a little creative.”

The timing was perfect, because Dimitri’s face was very nearly buried in them. He could feel the warmth radiating off his cheeks. “The more you pressure me, the more I’ll -”

“You could -”

A forceful hand met his shoulder and the world spun before he slammed backward into the mattress, caught off-guard by the speed of it all. He breathed sharply in as Dimitri hovered over him, struggling with something behind the haunting blue of his eyes, and said, slow and purposeful and deep, “I know you’re used to using that mouth for all manner of things, but I would hope you’d know when to shut up and listen to your liege.”

Sylvain swallowed. That bitterness that had been welling up inside him was gone. He glanced down to where Dimitri had braced a knee on his groin and whimpered.

_ “Slut.” _


	11. Hildspar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm all but positive that I'm gonna marry Hilda at the end of VW, so I was in the mood to write something with her in it and did a Twitter poll to see whether it should be with Claude or Caspar. Caspar won, as you can see, which was fortunate enough for me because I was in the mood to write some trans!Caspar as well :3c I'm COMING for you tho HilClaude MARK MY WORDS. (I have too many Caspar ships help me)
> 
> Because I know preferences with trans hcs are varied and many and often quite particular, I will say now that nothing explicit happens but there is a bit of discussion as to just how Caspar's body has changed over five years and if that's not your jam, I encourage you to skip this one.

War, hormones, and the general process of  _ growing up _ had done much to change Caspar’s anatomy. He’d had a youthful charm to him back during their time at the academy, yes, but Hilda had been less attracted to him as a romantic or sexual prospect and more as entertainment.

She supposed the bare-fisted brawling tournament taking place was its own form of entertainment, yes, but as she concealed her smile behind her palm and crossed one leg over the other, she understood that it was serving an entirely different purpose for her now. Caspar was between rounds, eagerly gulping down water, his shirt sticking to him with sweat. He was a bit more lithe than the average brawler, yes, a fact made much more apparent when he wasn’t wearing his bulky armor, but as he’d demonstrated in round after round, he more than made up for it in power.

Raphael arrived next to him and nudged him with his elbow, presumably congratulating him on his performance thus far or remarking on the fact that they’d be facing each other in the next round, and Hilda drank in the way Caspar’s back muscles - what she could see of them, anyway - shifted with the pumping of his fist. She chewed her lip, disregarding her lip gloss for the moment, and shifted, trying to alleviate some of the heat between her thighs. If Caspar carried on doing what he was doing, she might need to take her leave for some personal time.

Or he could put his water down and strip his shirt off. That, she supposed, was reason enough to leave, too. Her eyes widened when he bore that rippling plane of skin, barely conscious of the dainty little noise she let out at the sight.

“I know, right? That looked like it hurt,” Leonie commented, grimacing in a faintly gleeful sort of way. At least  _ somebody _ was paying attention to the match. Hilda shook her head, then, finally, stood.

“I’m gonna go ahead and roll out! Bit much for little old me, I think,” she chirped, and Leonie nodded, still entranced by the action. Claude raised his eyebrows, but mercifully chose not to comment as Hilda skipped away through the crowd.

“Hilda!” called a familiar voice, and she stopped in her tracks, carefully concealing her giddy smile before turning to face Caspar. “Aw, you’re not sticking around for the semifinals?”

He trotted up to her, and she glanced down over his chest. It had reduced in some ways, but broadened in others - the product of five years’ worth of hormone and reversal magic, she supposed - and  _ damn, _ she couldn’t even pretend to keep her eyes off them. She cast an experimental glance upwards, curbing her amusement at the disappointment written plainly on his face.

“Yeah, I remembered some…  _ private _ business I had to attend to,” she explained, taking care to linger on the more potent words, “Watching you out there reminded me.”

“Huh! Shame. Well, don’t let me stop you!” Caspar answered breezily, straightening for a second and stretching his arms backward. Oh, this man and his obliviousness… Luckily for her, Hilda did have one more trump card.

“I suppose I could stay a  _ little _ longer,” she hummed, stepping close and reaching out, tracing her fingers featherlight over Caspar’s pec, “If you have enough time before next round to help me with a little something…”

“Before next round?” Caspar mused, glancing over his shoulder. They were a fair bit away from the action and Hilda figured she knew a couple crannies big enough to fit them if he were to accept. “Uh, I think they’re gonna give us a short break. But if it’s far or, like, heavy, I don’t think I can.”

“Oh, it’s not far at all!” Hilda crooned, stepping even closer, close enough that she could see the bobbing of Caspar’s throat when he at last realized just how close she was, “In fact - it’s riiiight here,” she murmured, pressing her lips to the side of Caspar’s neck and nudging her knee between his thighs.

“Oh,” he said in the smallest voice she’d ever heard from him. For a moment, she worried, but then he licked his lips, glanced backward again, and said, in a quavering voice, “Y-yeah, I think I could do that much for ya.”


	12. Dimigard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep shifting around in my shipping preferences but I am SHOCKED that this is the first Dimigard ficlet in here!!!! I've seriously gone head-over-heels for them, they're just so good.... And naturally there's more dogboy (and another pair of minifics posted to AO3 with a theme in common. Am I just gonna keep doing this???)
> 
> I love.... Edie with a tiny vagoo and Dima with a giant hog. It just feels so right.

Edelgard sensed it a split second before it happened, much too late to utter a warning - that tightness, the stretch, the sense that it’d tear something hit her so fast and then it was  _ in, _ forcing her voice out of her throat and making her whole body jerk. She was loud, loud enough that their parents might have heard but she was so shaken that, for once, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Dimitri stilled, hovering above her with a tension in him that she very clearly recognized - she’d never be so condescending as to call him a  _ bad boy _ but it had the same sense of shame as a dog who’d been told the same. She clutched at his shoulders, fighting to catch her breath, and he asked in a high, panicked voice, “El? Are you alright?”

She shifted, not terribly mobile considering she was presently knotted to one of the largest dog hybrids she knew, but gradually beginning to relax. She’d done her research before they’d tried this, obviously - her body wasn’t  _ made _ to take a knot, but she certainly  _ could. _ She swallowed, blinked back tears, and rasped, “I just - need a moment.”

Dimitri nodded and licked his lips, then nodded again, as if he had his own doubts. She could see his golden ears shifting atop his head, betraying his nerves, and recalled a piece of advice she’d seen online - petting would help them both relax. She pried one hand away from Dimitri’s shoulder and cupped the back of his head, scratching idly until he caught the hint and sank down over her. His hips were moving by increments, forward and back like he was resisting the urge to fuck into her, then suddenly side to side. He was so big, she couldn’t see - but she lifted her leg, hooked it over the back of his thigh, and giggled when she felt his silken tail glance over her shin as it wagged.

His ears were soft. He was so big and so firm all over, but his ears were soft. She focused on that, exhaling into his shoulder and turning into his neck, running her hand over the velvety texture of it and smiling at the low whine she both felt and heard from him. There was hot and wet on her temple - his version of kisses, just a brief little flick of his tongue - and she turned her head so she could see just the smallest flash of his long, sharp canines. It was comforting, in an odd way.

She continued fiddling with his ear, then deliberately flipped it inside out so she could hear him scoff “El!” and kissed his neck. “You’ve done well,” she mumbled and felt his hips wiggle a little harder with the renewed force of his tail wagging.

“El, I - I-I can pull out or k-keep going, but I don’t think I can - hold back -”

“Thank you, Dimitri. You can move.”

More whines, drawing high and sweet from his throat, but he did it - he bucked back and forth as far as he could manage while embedded inside, and he drove her breath out of her lungs with every movement.

She could certainly get used to this.


	13. Felannie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really enjoy a/b/o with a female alpha, and Felannie is.... Probably the least likely candidate, but hey!! I gotta follow my heart and this is where it lead me. I can't seem to make them purely porny, though...... Felannie demands Softness.

Felix always rode her during mating season. Annette liked the little routine they’d fallen into - when his heat hit, he had permission to coax her cock out of its sheath whenever he pleased, to take his birth control potion and ride her until she woke. Her ruts had always been pretty mild in contrast with his heats, so she was happy to let him take charge.

Maybe it was the fact that she knew his birth control had  _ not _ been a part of the process this time around, but something felt a little more - urgent? Pressing? This time around. Every time she closed her eyes, she was enveloped in red heat, pressuring her to re-open them, to never tear her eyes off of her omega, beautiful as he was even sweating and cursing and driving himself down on her as hard as he could.

He’d haphazardly tied his hair up in a ponytail but even that was coming undone, tufts of jet black hair falling forward around his face and neck. His scent glands - and her clumsily-placed mating bites all around them - were obscured from view, and it made her whine high in her throat, buck upward, and open her arms, panting “Fe - Felix -”

Felix grit his teeth, staring down at her through narrowed eyes, and for a split second she thought he wouldn’t - but he was an omega after all, head-over-heels and subservient to his mate by necessity, and he draped himself over her, falling into her arms. She had to straighten her torso to reach even close to his gland, but a single lap of her tongue over it had her shuddering with sweet relief.

She opened her jaw and bit - off-center, unfortunately, but that wasn’t exactly new - and it set off the rest of their typical order. Felix gasped, throaty and grating, and clenched his teeth as he came, releasing his watery omega cum over her stomach and stiffening around a suppressed sob. He clenched around her, still moving, and she humped up into him hard enough despite his softening limbs to force her knot in - and that was enough for her too, enough for her vision to white out from her own orgasm, making her jaw fall open and release him, still tasting his pheromones on her tongue.

He panted hotly, pressing kisses to the top of her head - because it was all he could reach, with their height difference - while her brain reset itself. She kneaded his back absently, just drifting in semi-consciousness until she felt him shifting on top of her, lifting himself, testing her knot -

“No!” she blurted, her eyes flying open in time to see Felix’s look of faint surprise. “Don’t pull off!”

His eyebrows seemed to do an odd little dance before resolving themselves into his characteristic frown - though it was accompanied by a familiar quirking of his lips, one that, according to a few reputable sources, only happened around her. “I’m just getting comfortable.”

“But - I - I wanna stay knotted for awhile,” she admitted, a little shamefully.

“You think it’ll hurt? Yours is too small to hurt.”

_ “No, _ I just -”

“Don’t think it’ll take if we don’t wait it out? That’s unlike you.”

_ “Felix,” _ she groaned, and he smirked. He’d been teasing her, of course, because he’d learned the art and hadn’t gone a day without putting his expertise into practice since. “I just wanna stay knotted for a bit! Is that such a crime? You’re my mate.”

A flicker of - oh, so now  _ he _ was embarrassed, got it. It made Annette smile against her own will, seeing him avert his gaze and flush, even just that little bit. “How sentimental,” he murmured in that tone, the one she’d once interpreted as mocking but now knew to be affectionate. He shifted around on top of her and grunted. “It’s not comfortable, though.”

“Just for a bit,” she promised, squeezing him in her arms as best she could. He frowned for a second, then fell forward again, just allowing himself to be held. The movement did make her ever aware that she was  _ inside _ him, which in turn made her heart feel bubbly and giddy and -

“We’re gonna have puppies,” she whispered into his shoulder, still barely believing it.

He snorted. At her half-inquisitive, half-offended grunt, he mumbled, “You’re the only one I’ve ever met who calls them puppies. Are you a dog?”

“If they’re  _ pups, _ why can’t we call them -”

“I know,” he conceded. He inhaled deep, inflating his whole ribcage, then repeated, “Yes, I know.”

She slid her arms downward, down over his sides. He pulled back with a questioning look and she used the space to touch his belly, tapping her fingers against it. “Hi,” she said, smiling with her entire face, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I don’t think they’re in there  _ yet,” _ Felix scoffed, but his face was red, his expression warm.


	14. Dimigard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And somehow, the final two chapters feel thematically connected again... How does this keep happening!!!
> 
> At any rate, this one's an AU where Dimitri's five years older than Edie, but everything else happens in much the same way - Edie's the flame emperor and she's planning to attack Garreg Mach, internally praying that her stepbrother doesn't turn against her when it happens. Don't ask me the logistics of how she knows he's her stepbrother this time, I just wanted some bittersweet stuff.

The sheer size of his bed concealed its petite occupant well; as Dimitri entered the room, he very nearly missed the lump under the covers, only tipped off by the little white head poking out at the head. Edelgard had brought a book with her to bed, one he didn’t recognize - perhaps assigned reading for class.

“We missed you at the party,” he said, closing the door behind him. As he stepped closer, he eyeballed the location of her feet under the blankets and reached over to jab one; Edelgard jerked with a squeak, making sure to send him an exaggeratedly reproachful look.

“I was there for a time. It isn’t my fault that you decided to open the doors in the middle of winter.” She leaned her forehead on the pillow, giving Dimitri a sweet, teasing look out of the corner of her eye. “Besides which, I thought I had a more meaningful birthday gift to give than a chaste sisterly kiss.”

Dimitri was not to be deterred - Edelgard had grown used to diverting his attention by way of sexual advances, but he was no longer eighteen. “You’ve been visiting Faerghus all your life! I would think you’d be used to the cold by now.”

“I still grew up in the south! And your blankets are a much more pleasant source of heat than all those strangers’ bodies anyway.”

Another attempt at distracting him. He sat on the edge of the bed. “I have a secret for staying even warmer.”

“Oh?”

“You could always wear  _ clothes _ under my blankets, El.”

She gave him a small, secretive smile. “Where’s the fun in that, if I can’t have my brother warm me up?”

One pale, slender arm emerged from under the covers and tugged on his sleeve, urging him to join her, to take her up on her offer. He was tempted for a moment, but decided to at least remove his jacket first; it was a nice one, with all the trappings for ceremony, and it was hardly proper to ruin it. Edelgard reluctantly let him step away to attend to that matter, and he elected to console her with some conversation.

“You’ve been awfully eager to cast caution aside during this visit,” he posited, fumbling with the buttons in the dim candlelight. “What ever happened to taking care not to be caught?”

She took a moment to answer. He sent her a glance; she had the covers pulled up over her nose, and her eyes were unreadable. At his prompting, she finally said, “I suppose… With all that’s been happening at Garreg Mach, I’ve been valuing the connections I have a bit more.”

“Because of the Flame Emperor? My offer still stands, El. We could house you until he’s caught, if it made you feel safer - I could even help you finish out your curriculum if it came to that.”

She uncovered her face in order to smirk at him. “And my counterpoint also stands, Dimitri. I need to be  _ taught, _ not  _ coddled.” _

He shrugged off his jacket with a bemused shake of his head and draped it over the back of one of his chairs, then stepped back toward the bed. Edelgard welcomed him with open arms as he pulled back the covers, taking the briefest of moments to admire her soft shapes before tucking them both in and pulling her to him. Even now the surface of her skin was chilled, making even him shiver as he felt it through his thin dress shirt; he warmed her with every tool he had available, holding her, tracing the scars on her forearms - ones he’d never understood the origins of and had long since learned not to inquire after.

He breathed into her neck and spoke. “Just know,” he whispered, letting tongue and teeth glance over skin as he spoke, “I would do anything for you, little El.”

Edelgard was unresponsive - distractingly so. He paused, lifted his head, and peered into her troubled expression. She blinked back tears, stirring alarm in his chest, and asked, “Promise?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I… I have a lot planned for the near future. I don’t know if that will change your perception of me.”

Her voice was thick with emotion, and it only alarmed Dimitri more. He was at a loss for a moment, then said, “I promise. Nothing could change how I love you. I would - I would move mountains if you asked me.”

The corners of her mouth pricked up - just by a hair, but it was something. The tears fell, but she laughed. “Mountains,” she murmured, almost contemplative. “What about the earth and the heavens?”

A touch of her more immature side, one that brought blissful relief. He laughed too, just a brief little thing, and said, “For you, I would gladly move the earth and the heavens, too.”

She watched him, quiet. Then she pulled him to her and pressed their lips together - a light little touch - and whispered, “I’m counting on it.”


	15. Hildspar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have the last piece in this collection! I'm probably going to end up publishing a second collection too once I have enough to justify it - I just don't like the thought of letting this one get too cluttered, tags-wise. Y'all know how it is.
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for your support! This one was inspired by all the age-difference selfcest I've been seeing on Twitter lately.... Yummy c:

“Oh my  _ goddess, _ I forgot how  _ little _ you were!” Big Hilda squealed, crowding into Caspar’s space with no apparent regard for his level of comfort. Well, Hilda supposed, better him than most any other boy she knew; he was, as she had verified no less than a dozen times, dense as a rock. 

Even then, he seemed more indignant at the slight towards his stature than flustered at her closeness. He huffed, “Well, you’re no giant either!” and she laughed. Did  _ she _ sound like that when she laughed? Oh, forget it - Big Hilda was showing no signs of dialing back her close inspection of Caspar and present-day Hilda was growing  _ very _ tired of her stalling. Was this how everybody else felt about her? Jeez, maybe she should do some self-reflection.

“C’mon, lady, let’s pick up the pace!” Hilda cut in as Big Hilda cupped Caspar’s chin and started tilting it this way and that, as if inspecting a show dog. Caspar, for his part, went with it, albeit with a perplexed look on his face. “Don’t you want to go back to  _ your _ time already?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not here to steal your man,” Big Hilda chuckled, giving her a quick wink over her shoulder. “He’s cute, but I think I prefer the size up.”

_ “My _ man? You’re clearly…” Hilda began, but trailed off. Big Hilda raised her eyebrows, then glanced between her and Caspar, who was still tightly within her grasp and appeared to have rather uncharacteristically resigned himself to his fate. 

Another moment passed before Big Hilda spoke. “So you two aren’t… Well!” she chirped, at last relinquishing her grip on Caspar and lifting both hands as if in surrender, “If anybody asks who screwed up the timeline, it wasn’t me!”

Caspar seemed as lost as ever, but it took no time at all for Hilda to realize what her older self was getting at. She tilted her head, meeting her own eye, and then mutely turned her gaze to Caspar. Well, she couldn’t deny he was cute, and apparently he was in for a pretty solid growth spurt; if her future was tinted blue, well, she supposed she wasn’t going to complain.

Big Hilda coyly covered her mouth. “Hey, you know, I spent enough time in Abyss back in the day. I’m sure I can find my way back without any problems! So why don’t I just give you a special gift -” she approached her suddenly, beaming - “and I’ll be on my way.”

“A gift?” Hilda gasped, feeling her interest peak. She wasn’t going to deny, she was a little thrilled to consider what her fashionable older self might give her. “Well, I think we both know I’m the last person to deny a -”

Big Hilda swooped elegantly into her space, and suddenly Hilda felt smooth, glossed lips brush hers, asking for entry. She was taken aback, but ultimately not surprised - the pair had joked about how they would’ve had sex if they had the time, just for the intrigue. There was a thrill buzzing in her chest at this opportunity and she gladly granted her older self access, her breath hitching as Big Hilda’s experienced tongue licked into her mouth. She shuddered under her own touch, mustering up the focus to give back as good as she was getting - and then Big Hilda broke away, dropped another kiss to her cheek, and turned to give a lascivious smile over her shoulder.

“I’ll be seeing  _ you, _ cutie,” she teased, and as she trotted away she gave Hilda one final wave.

Hilda caught her breath, still a little shaken, and fanned herself as she came back into her own brain. “Goodness!” she huffed. “At least get me dinner first, huh?”

“Wait,” Caspar said, and when she turned back to him, he looked even more baffled than before. “Was she saying… We’re  _ together _ in the future?”

Oh, this boy. Hilda couldn’t hold back the chuckle, and she only briefly marveled that  _ wow, _ that really  _ was _ how she sounded before she stepped up to Caspar’s side and hooked her hand through his elbow.

“Aw, she’s full of nonsense, take it from me. Let’s go get lunch, huh? I’m starving.”

“Wait,” Caspar said, rolling down his sleeve. He reached forward and not-so-delicately wiped at her cheek with it. “She got some schmutz on you,” he muttered, and as he pulled his hand away, she could see the color of her older self’s lipstick staining his sleeve.

She placed a hand over her heart as they walked, thinking to herself that no, he was no prince charming - but she certainly had no right to condemn her older self’s taste.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/glittergluwu)


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